


go ahead, drive me insane

by lilcrickee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Enemies to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilcrickee/pseuds/lilcrickee
Summary: The best day of every month, as far as Doyoung is concerned, is the 28th, if only because that’s when the office-wide newsletter gets sent out.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 36
Kudos: 408





	go ahead, drive me insane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sneakiest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakiest/gifts).



> For the wonderful sneak, who became the first person to ever commission me! I am immeasurably grateful that you think my writing is worth actual dollars, and I can only hope that this fic is to your satisfaction. Otherwise, I may be issuing a refund, lol.
> 
> Fic is unbeta'd. All glaring erorrs are sadly, my own.
> 
> Title taken from "Stuck with U" by Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber

The best day of every month, as far as Doyoung is concerned, is the 28th, if only because that’s when the office-wide newsletter gets sent out. Like clockwork -- thanks to automated emailing systems -- the emails get sent out at eight in the morning on the dot, and Doyoung comes to work and sees the fruits of his labour sitting in his inbox.

This month is no different. He gets to the office at 8:30, well before most of his colleagues, and settles in: lunch, carefully labelled, in the department fridge. Succulents gently checked to see if they’re in need of water. Email inbox open. He won’t reply to anything before work officially starts at nine, but Doyoung likes to be organized: he likes to sort through everything first, get an idea of what needs to be replied to urgently and what he can ruminate on for a little longer.

Today, he also gets to read the newsletter.

It shouldn’t really be too much of a surprise to him: he’s the chief editor for it (read: the only person who works on it diligently), and the only person who has more say on it than him is his boss, Donghyuck. When the computer boots up, Doyoung logs in and brings up his email service, sighing into his cup of coffee as he pulls up the newsletter.

There’s the info he had pulled from finance about how the company is doing and its projections for the remainder of the quarter. There’s the update from operations on their supply chain. There’s the mockups for marketing’s latest campaign, the numbers from sales on how they sold in the first two weeks of the month. 

And there, at the very bottom, is the Hall of Fame. 

It’s the only thing that Doyoung doesn’t personally work on, which is fine, because he takes extra delight in getting to see who’s featured in it for the month.

_Highest Sales. Most Efficient. Best Product Pitch. Hardest Working._

There’s always a rotating cast of names, and Doyoung takes it as his opportunity to get to know some of the people in the other departments without having to actually meet them. There’s Yuta from sales; Jeno, Doyoung’s intern; Ten, who floats between their Seoul and Beijing offices; Mark, their diligent junior marketing associate. Doyoung commits them all to memory; they have a company social coming up and he won’t be caught looking like a fool not knowing anyone there.

There’s one last picture in the Hall of Fame. It makes Doyoung frown.

Even though the faces and names change most of the time each month, there’s always one person who stays the same. It irks Doyoung, mostly because he doesn’t know who keeps nominating this person for the award. Maybe he should work harder every month to nominate someone else, try and rally the whole HR department to band together in a mass vote. He’ll have to talk to Donghyuck about it; he’s the one that runs the Hall of Fame anyway, as the supposedly unbiased head of the HR department.

Doyoung closes the newsletter and runs through the rest of his emails, but his brain is stubbornly stuck on the last member of the Hall of Fame and his apparent permanent spot in it.

Most Beautiful Employee. Taeyong, from marketing.

It’s not that there’s anything in particular wrong with Taeyong. Doyoung has admittedly never met him. But he’s strikingly beautiful and Doyoung has always been weak for a pretty face. The fact that he’s angry that Taeyong keeps winning Most Beautiful Employee apparently does not diminish the fact that Doyoung would very much like to kiss him, too.

“You’re awfully worked up today, sir,” Jeno says when he brings Doyoung his third cup of coffee at three in the afternoon. Doyoung feels bad about utilizing his intern in this way, but he figures he can’t be a functioning mentor if he doesn’t have caffeine in his system.

“Did you see the newsletter?” Doyoung asks, in lieu of a proper answer. “You did well on the formatting. I’ve gotten loads of compliments from the social media girls; I think they may want to poach you once your internship is up.”

Jeno looks stricken. “You mean, I wouldn’t get to stay in HR?” he asks.

Doyoung shrugs. “I mean, if I pass up on hiring you -- which I probably won’t, but I’ll have to talk to Donghyuck about it -- the opportunity goes to other departments before we would cut you from the company.”

This seems to appease Jeno slightly. He relinquishes his hold on Doyoung’s coffee and sets it down on his desk. “Oh, well, thanks. I think?”

“Don’t mention it,” Doyoung replies. “Also, congratulations on being awarded Most Efficient. Obviously I voted for you, but it looks like other people are noticing how hard you work, too.”

Jeno beams at him, a smile so big that it makes his eyes scrunch up into little crescent moons. Cute. “Thank you, sir,” he says. “It’s a huge honour.”

It gives Doyoung an idea. Even though Jeno is technically his intern, he’s sent him scurrying around the office enough that he probably knows everyone. Or at least, enough people to know everyone through various degrees of separation. 

“Say, Jeno,” he says, leaning back in his chair and observing his intern. He’s tall -- slightly taller than Doyoung is -- with broad shoulders and muscular arms that always seem to threaten to bulge out of his shirt. Doyoung has caught more than one coworker ogling his intern, particularly one of the other interns that’s being mentored by Jaehyun in marketing. “Do you happen to know Taeyong from marketing?”

Jeno’s mouth twists in thought. Then, he smiles again. “Sure,” he says. “Or, well. Not super well. But Jaemin knows him, and he talks about him all the time. He won Most Beautiful Employee again, didn’t he?”

Jaemin. That’s Jaehyun’s intern, who obviously has a huge crush on Jeno. Doyoung files that thought away neatly. As one of HR’s best, he needs to keep tabs on any budding office romances.

“He did,” Doyoung replies. 

Jeno’s head tilts, like a puppy. Doyoung refrains from cooing at him. “Is that why you’re all tense today, sir?” he asks. “Because he won again?”

It’s sort of infuriating how easily Doyoung can be read, but he feels the need to clarify. He doesn’t want Jeno to think that Doyoung is _jealous_ , because he’s _not_. He couldn’t care less if he’s named most beautiful employee at the office, but he does think it’s unfair that Taeyong keeps winning it every month. Doyoung can think of several other employees who are deserving of the title as well. 

“It’s just unfair, is all,” Doyoung says. Unfair that he has to look at beautiful pictures of Taeyong every month in _his_ newsletter. “All the other spots rotate. Why not most beautiful?”

Jeno shrugs. “Have you ever asked Donghyuck-ssi?” he asks. “I don’t even know how the voting works, really. Maybe you should clarify what’s going on there. You’re the editor, after all. You should know these things about the newsletter, sir.”

Doyoung hates to be scolded, and especially by his intern of all people. He inhales some of his coffee to keep the scowl off his face, even though the temperature burns his tongue. 

“Sure,” he says amiably. “Do I have time this afternoon?”

Jeno pulls up Doyoung’s calendar on the iPad he’s carrying and scans the agenda. “Yes,” he says. “You have a call with the insurance company about that time Jisung’s chair broke and he broke his wrist, but otherwise, you’re free after that.”

Doyoung groans and rubs his temple. He hates the insurance calls. It wasn’t Jisung’s fault that he broke his wrist, but HR is obligated to send an incident report for worker’s compensation and it’s just _so much tedious work_. 

“Okay, thanks, Jeno,” he says. “If you don’t have anything else, I don’t need you for the rest of the day. You’re good to go.”

Jeno beams at him again. “Cool,” he says. “Jaemin asked me if I could help him with some mockups so I think I’ll go spend some time in marketing, but if you need me you can ping me on Slack.”

Doyoung bobs his head and watches Jeno flounce out of the room. He looks entirely too happy to be going to offer his services to the marketing department for free. Doyoung will definitely have to keep an eye on the development of that relationship. 

The phone on his desk rings. Doyoung glances at the agenda on his computer and then at the caller ID. The insurance company. Right. He sighs, takes one more fortifying sip of his coffee, and then picks up the phone.

“Yes, hello, this is Kim Doyoung from NCT Enterprises.”

Doyoung knocks on Donghyuck’s office door at 10 to five. 

“Really?” Donghyuck asks when he sticks his head in. He’s already in the process of loosening his tie, jacket draped over his briefcase on the desk. “You’re really going to do this to me now?”

“Sure,” Doyoung replies. “No time like the present.”

“Don’t you want to go home too?” Donghyuck whines.

“I’m driving Jeno to a friend’s house. His apartment got flooded from a pipe burst and now he’s commuting two hours on the train to get to work. I have to wait for him to finish whatever he’s doing with marketing.”

Donghyuck’s jaw drops. “That sucks,” he says at last. “Maybe I should see if I can finagle a bonus out of finance for him.”

Doyoung smiles. For as aggravating as Donghyuck is, he has a good heart. It’s probably why he’s the head of the human resources department and not sales. Doyoung has the suspicion that clients would walk all over Donghyuck if he let them tug on their heartstrings a little. 

“I don’t think Jeno would appreciate charity,” Doyoung says carefully.

Donghyuck waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll tell him it’s a prize for being awarded Most Efficient.”

Bingo. There’s the opening Doyoung is looking for. “Speaking of the Hall of Fame,” he says, leaning his hip against one of the chairs parked in front of Donghyuck’s desk. “How does the nominating and voting work for that anyway?”

Donghyuck gives him the stink eye. “If you were half as observant around the office as you like to think you are, you would have noticed the box Jungwoo so painstakingly decorated in the break room,” he says. “The third week of every month is dedicated to nominations. Then I sort through them, make up the list, and post it for the fourth week so everyone can cast their votes anonymously. There’s a box in every department.”

Doyoung has, admittedly, seen the box. He’s just never given it much thought. Truthfully, he had thought it was a fancy tissue box holder. He’s always getting crap like that in their office-wide Secret Santa’s around the holidays and has no idea what to do with them. He wouldn’t put it past anyone to bring a gift like that to work just to get it out of the house.

“So, if, say, one particular person keeps winning the same award every month - “

“ - it either means he’s the only one being nominated for the award, or everyone is just in mass agreement that Taeyong is the most beautiful employee.”

Doyoung splutters. “I didn’t say anything about Taeyong,” he says, which is just as good as giving himself up.

Donghyuck smirks at him. “You didn’t have to,” he says. “You’re so transparent, Doyoung-ssi.”

Doyoung fumes and spins on his heel. He doesn’t appreciate being analyzed, and he _certainly_ doesn’t appreciate having his — infatuation flung back in his face. Doyoung gathers his stuff and head down to marketing to pick up Jeno. At least he got the information he came for, even if it cost him a bit of his pride. Besides, he got the immense satisfaction of holding Donghyuck up at work; his boss is notorious for clocking out right on time every day. He’s certainly never won the work ethic award in the Hall of Fame.

Doyoung opts to take the stairs two flights down to marketing. He doesn’t bother with a lot of exercise, but he can handle going down two floors. Better than going up. He pops out of the stairwell exit at the far end of the hallway and makes his way towards the bullpen where he knows Jeno will likely be. 

What he finds is seemingly half the marketing department gathered around a single computer screen. As far as Doyoung can tell, Jeno -- and by extension, Jaemin -- is at the centre of it all, gleefully clicking away at the computer. Doyoung pauses on the outskirts of the group and waits for Jeno to look up and see him. When he does, he startles.

“Oh, sir, hello,” Jeno greets amiably. Doyoung watches Jaemin mouth _sir_ incredulously. “We were just finishing up -- uh. Some research.”

“You know, we have screen sharing for a reason,” Doyoung points out. “What’s everyone looking at?”

Jeno’s face turns pink. “Uh, just some mockups for a campaign idea.”

Doyoung can smell weakness. He stalks forward, clearing marketing employees out of the way like wayward weeds. “Can I see?”

As quickly as the colour had flooded Jeno’s face, now it disappears. “Uh?” he says, but Doyoung’s already rounded the table so he can peer over Jeno’s shoulder.

There’s an entire camera roll’s worth of mockups. From the tiny previews, Doyoung can pick out a figure holding a bottle of one of their upcoming releases. He clicks on one and bites back the sour taste in his mouth as Taeyong from marketing fills up the screen. 

He can see the obvious marks where it’s been Photoshopped, but the mockups look -- good. Taeyong’s got a steely gaze, sharp jawline, platinum blonde hair coiffed elegantly. He looks beautiful, and Doyoung hates it.

“Where did you get the pictures?” he asks, instead.

“Oh, well, Taeyong-ssi has a public Instagram where he posts all his modeling shots - “

Jesus. A model. As if Doyoung needed another reason to hatefully lust after a complete stranger.

“ - so we just took some from there. But obviously if we went ahead with the campaign we’d reshoot the photos. Actually, sir, since you’re here, it’s probably a good time to ask, but will we have to hire Taeyong-ssi as a contracted model, even though he already works for the company? Or can we, uh, find a workaround for that?”

Jeno squeaks when Jaemin elbows him in the ribs. “Not that -- not that I’m trying to cheat Taeyong-ssi out of his pay or anything,” Jeno stutters. “But. I was just, uh. I was just wondering.”

Doyoung scrolls through a few more photos. Some of them are the same Photoshopped face on different bodies, but there are enough unique shots that Doyoung wonders how many modeling gigs Taeyong picks up outside of his office work. 

“Legally, we’d probably have to hire him as a contract worker,” he says absentmindedly. “But I’d have to actually look through his contract here to see if there are any stipulations that could put a wrench in the plan.”

“Oh,” Jeno says, sagging in his seat a little. “So, does that mean - ?”

Doyoung sighs and straightens up. He can feel the eyes of the rest of the department on his back. “It means that the mockups are good, Jeno,” he says, “and, pending approval from Jaehyun, Donghyuck, and Taeyong, we should be able to go through with the shoots for these. Good work.”

Jeno practically starts vibrating in his seat. He ducks his head in acknowledgement before turning a blinding smile on Jaemin, who returns it in equal measures. Doyoung resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“If it makes things any easier for you,” a voice says from behind Doyoung, “I’m game for the project.”

Doyoung spins on the heel of his expensive Italian loafers. The crowd parts like some ridiculous movie scene, revealing a single person. He’s about the same height as Doyoung, with platinum blonde hair and sharp, cat-like eyes. His mouth is curled into a shy smile. 

Taeyong. From marketing.

Involuntarily, Doyoung feels the grip he has on his briefcase tighten. Taeyong is startling beautiful, smooth skin and silky looking hair despite how damaged it must be from being dyed such a light colour. Even the small scar next to his eye is somehow pretty, despite it being the only flaw on his otherwise perfect face. Doyoung licks his lips involuntarily and hates himself a little for it.

“I’m -- that’s good to hear,” Doyoung says, cursing himself for stuttering. He can smell fear on others, but he hates to exude it himself. “I’m Kim Doyoung, senior HR director.”

“Lee Taeyong,” Taeyong replies. He steps forward and extends a hand. Doyoung shakes it bitterly. “Marketing associate.”

They stare at each other for a long time, much longer than Doyoung is comfortable with, but he won’t be the first to break eye contact. It’s only when Jeno clears his throat that Doyoung realizes that he and Taeyong are still holding hands. He lets go, turning his attention sharply to his intern.

“Uh, sir, if you were still offering that ride to my friend’s place - “

“Yeah,” Doyoung says briskly, gesturing Jeno to get up. “Yeah, let’s go. There’s probably less traffic now since it’s closer to six.”

Jeno’s face pales. “Sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have kept you here so long.”

“It’s fine,” Doyoung says. He glances back at Taeyong, who’s still looking at him contemplatively. “It was worth it.”

Doyoung comes into the office the next day 10 minutes before work starts with Jeno in tow. He doesn’t like being this late to work, but he also hates the idea of letting his intern rot on a bus for two hours every day while his apartment is getting aired out from the flooding. 

“Thank you again, Doyoung-ssi,” Jeno says nervously, bowing to Doyoung when they get to his desk. “I know it’s a huge hassle for you to come and collect me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope, propping it up against Doyoung’s succulents before Doyoung can say anything. “Uh, this is for the gas. Um. Ping me on Slack if you need anything.” And then he scurries away.

Doyoung blinks at the envelope for a moment before tucking it into his desk drawer. He won’t take Jeno’s money, but he’ll have to be sneaky about returning it. 

There’s a pile of emails waiting for him when he boots up the computer. He’s been CC’d on a thread about the marketing campaigns Jeno had been working on the night before, and there’s something from the insurance company regarding Jisung’s case. There’s also a whole host of job applications that he immediately fires off to Jungwoo. He’ll have to remember to visit Chenle in their IT department to get him to take his email off the application page on their website. 

He sends a quick message on Slack to Jaehyun to check out what his department’s been up to when he gets a message from Donghyuck, which is surprising considering it’s nine o’clock on the dot. Even if Donghyuck was always in the office on time, Doyoung is convinced his boss doesn’t actually do anything until at least half an hour into the work day.

_Got tipped off that you might want to check out these photos. Also, I’ll look into his contract today and see what the stipulations are. Enjoy!!!!_

Doyoung frowns at the link. It’s been shortened automatically, so he has no idea what he’s clicking into, but he knows Donghyuck would never use their work servers to send him inappropriate messages. That’s -- sadly -- what text message is for.

When Doyoung opens the link he’s taken to an Instagram page. _leetaeyong_ it says at the top of the page next to a picture of Taeyong’s side profile. Doyoung frowns and scrolls down to look at the gallery.

He’s highly aware that every shot is professionally captured and edited, but it doesn’t change the fact that Taeyong is incredibly, _ridiculously_ attractive. It doesn’t matter if he’s got eyeshadow smudged over his eyes, if he’s got painted lips or coiffed hair or a sultry, heated look. It doesn’t matter if the pictures are supposed to be cute or sexy, Taeyong looks stunning in all of them and Doyung would like nothing better than to kiss the stupid pout of his face in every photo.

He wishes he were working on a laptop if only so he could slam the lid shut. As it is, he manages to very calmly close the browser window and bring up the chat window with Donghyuck’s message in it.

_I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever it is, it’s wrong,_ he sends. He opens up his email inbox and clicks on the letter from the insurance company. He can’t believe it’s come to the day where he’d rather talk settlements than deal with any of the office’s bullshit. Doyoung suspects he’ll be messaging Jeno about coffees several times today.

The rest of the month passes by relatively uneventfully. Doyoung manages to work Jisung’s case until he’s getting the best possible payout from the insurance company. Donghyuck clears Taeyong to be hired as an independent contract worker for the product shoot. Jeno moves in with Jaemin so that his commute to work goes from two hours in a car to 20 minutes on his sleek racing bike. The office seems to work itself back into a state of normalcy.

On the 20th, Doyoung sends Donghyuck the finished copy of the newsletter. He watches the progress bar in his email server fill up before the little _whoosh_ sound lets him know the email is on its way. With a satisfied smile, he stands up and stretches. Maybe he’ll see what kind of snacks are available in the break room; someone is always bringing in fruits or cookies to share and Doyoung doesn’t want to bother Jeno just for him to run out and get him a snack.

The break room is empty when he gets there. There’s a half emptied gift basket sitting on the table with a note propped up against it: _My loser ex-boyfriend keeps sending to me trying to win me back. Please eat to your heart’s content!_ It’s from Yeri, one of their top HR execs. Doyoung makes a mental note to look into this ex-boyfriend of hers; he doesn’t want this guy causing any trouble to Yeri and, by extension, their company.

He snags an apple and a box of After Eights out of the basket and is about to make his exit when something catches his eye. A box sits next to their coffee maker, and the only reason Doyoung hasn’t seen it before, probably, is because he always makes Jeno go get him coffee from the cafe at the base of their building instead of brewing him something from this wretched contraption. Doyoung shoots the coffee machine one more disgusted look before focussing on the box next to it.

It’s a medium sized gift box wrapped haphazardly in metallic wrapping paper with a wide slit cut in the top for things to be slipped into it. Taped to the wrapping paper are printouts of superlatives and also the most embarrassing photos Doyoung has ever seen of the HR department. Unsurprisingly, his is posted prominently on the top right next to the slot.

And posted above the box, attached to the wall with a thumb tack, is the nomination list.

He sees Jeno’s name up for Best Product Pitch, along with Jaemin’s for Most Persistent -- whatever that’s supposed to mean. Doyoung’s even pleased to find his own name up for Most Efficient this month.

What he isn’t happy to see is Taeyong’s name next to Most Beautiful.

There’s a couple other names -- Yuta from marketing; Irene, head of the finance department; Taemin from design -- but they don’t matter. It’s the fact that Taeyong is there _again_ that makes Doyoung’s blood boil.

Without so much as a surreptitious glance around the break room, Doyoung rips off the top of the box and glances inside.

It’s still early in the voting period, but there’s already about a dozen slips of paper inside. Doyoung paws through them, eyes sliding over the votes: _Jeno, Jeno, Irene, Jaemin, Doyoung._ There’s plenty of variation in the box, but more than anything there’s an overwhelming number of votes for Taeyong, all in different hand-writing. 

Doyoung slams the lid of the box back down.

How is everyone in his department voting for Taeyong? Doyoung hadn’t even _met_ Taeyong before last month, and he went to every social the damn office held even though he hates them. 

He crunches the After Eights in his fist and stalks out of the break room. Jeno’s nowhere in sight, so Doyoung pulls up Slack as soon as he sits down. His snacks get dumped into the bottom drawer of his desk.

_Jeno,_ he types. _Meet me at the elevators. I need coffee._

It is therefore unsurprising when Doyoung gets to the office at 8:30 on the 28th, puts his lunch in the fridge, checks his succulents, and then opens his inbox to find Taeyong named Most Beautiful Employee of the month _again_. Even his own award of Most Efficient cannot soothe the rage that burns in his veins.

Jeno finds him later tapping away angrily at his keyboard. He can’t believe how noisy the keys are. Have they always been like this? The noise is so grating, Doyoung can’t stand it.

“Uh, boss?” Jeno asks. He’s taken to calling Doyoung that because Jaemin always calls Jaehyun from marketing that, and Doyoung can’t tell if he likes that they’ve become a little more casual or if he’s afraid he’s going to lose his intern to marketing whether he asks Jeno to stay on in HR or not.

“Yes?”

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep typing like that.”

Doyoung scowls at him.

Jeno’s smile melts off his face. He leans more heavily on the dividers surrounding Doyoung’s desk and asks, “Are you mad that Taeyong-ssi won Most Beautiful again?”

“I - “ Doyoung starts. He wants to say no, but he tries to make it a habit to not lie to his intern and, well. It would be a very blatant lie. 

“I mean, I get that it’s maybe not fair to some of the other employees,” Jeno continues, oblivious to Doyoung’s inner turmoil. “But why are you so bothered by it, boss? If you want, I’ll nominate you next month.”

Doyoung feels his face turn an unsightly shade of red. “I -- I’m not jealous of him, Jeno,” he says. “I’m not coveting his spot as Most Beautiful. I just. I don’t know. Don’t you ever look at insanely beautiful people and get a little ticked off?”

Jeno grins at him. “No,” he says. “I usually try to make friends with them.”

Doyoung splutters. He hates how inherently _good_ Jeno is sometimes. It doesn’t match well with his own occasional chaotic tendencies, which is the similarity that is probably the only thing that’s holding his relationship with Donghyuck together, honestly.

“Do you want to be friends with Taeyong, boss?” Jeno asks.

Doyoung mulls the idea over for a moment. What he’d really like is probably to kiss Taeyong senseless and then take him to bed. No friends necessary. “No,” he decides. “But I would like to knock him down a peg. And maybe knock some sense into the rest of this company, too.”

“Cool,” Jeno replies, none the wiser to Doyoung’s inner turmoil. He straightens up. “I have an idea of what you might be able to do about that, actually.”

Doyoung perks up. “Oh?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jeno says. “Follow me.”

“Okay, so, Taeyong goes to the gym every day before he comes to work,” Jaemin says, leading them down a hallway on the marketing floor. “He comes straight here after, so he always has his gym bag with him. He keeps it in the cubby area.”

Each floor has its own cubby wall instead of lockers, to promote something like trust and build healthy relationships in the company. It hadn’t been Doyoung’s idea, and it had never gotten approval, but he’d been voted down in their department meeting, and now every floor has some high quality Ikea shelving units that each employee can utilize to store things such as gym bags.

“This one is Taeyong’s,” Jaemin says, leading Doyoung to the only duffle bag in the room. He presses a bottle into Doyoung’s hand and gestures to the bag.

“Are you sure about this?” Doyoung asks. He’s never been very good at pulling pranks; he was always much more likely to be on the receiving end. 

“Yes,” Jeno says, popping up next to Jaemin’s shoulder. “I’ve done this before to my sister. It’ll work. Plus, that’s some high quality hair dye, so it should take even though we’re not dyeing it properly.”

Doyoung looks down at the bottle in his hand, then back to Jaemin. “Why did you happen to have hair dye in your desk?”

“I was going to dye my hair pink after work with Jeno,” Jaemin says, tipping his head against Jeno’s. “But this seems like a much more worthy cause.”

“I can reimburse you,” Doyoung offers.

“Sure,” Jaemin says easily. “But I think payment enough will be to see hyung with pink hair.”

It reminds Doyoung of what he’s supposed to be doing. With a deep, fortifying breath, he turns back to Taeyong’s gym bag and slowly pulls the zipper back.

It’s not really the act of the prank itself that gets Doyoung, but more the fact that he has to go through Taeyong’s personal effects to pull it off. Luckily, Taeyong’s toiletry bag is resting right on the top of an ungodly mix of dirty gym clothes and a damp towel. Doyoung scrunches his nose but pulls out the cosmetics bag.

Everything in it is unlabeled in small, plastic bottles. “Uh,” he says, showing the contents to Jaemin and Jeno. 

They station Jeno at the door to watch for any intruders and set to work unscrewing the bottles and sniffing them. 

“I think this one is just moisturizer,” Jaemin says, inhaling a bottle of thick white cream. “It could be conditioner, but I think it’s face moisturizer.”

“Okay, well, I want to dye his hair pink, not permanently ruin his modeling career by fucking up his skin,” Doyoung says. The bottle he picks up has a liquid in it that’s too thin to be shampoo. He puts it back in the bag.

“Ooh, this one, I think,” Jaemin says, handing the bottle to Doyoung. Doyoung squints into the bottle skeptically. “How do you know?” he asks.

“Jeno uses the same one,” Jaemin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Doyoung takes a whiff and thinks maybe, _maybe_ it smells like Jeno’s hair. But he’s never actively sniffed his intern’s hair -- he’s in HR after all and that would be frowned upon -- so he wouldn’t know.

“Just trust me on this, hyung,” Jaemin says. Doyoung scowls. He tries not to let his coworkers use friendly honourifics at work but Jaemin either doesn’t listen or doesn’t care. 

“Fine,” Doyoung huffs, because the longer they stay the more likely they are to get caught. He upends the bottle of hair dye into the bottle and watches it mix with the purple shampoo inside. He’s lucky it’s so dark; Taeyong won’t notice the addition of the dye.

“Mission accomplished,” Jeno says as they wander back up to the HR floor after having bid Jaemin farewell at the elevators. “Now we just have to wait for tomorrow.”

Doyoung schools his face into something impassive, but he can’t deny he’s feeling quite excited to come to work tomorrow. He’ll have to find an excuse to wander down to marketing.

Jaemin pings him on Slack the next morning. _Come see,_ it says. A second message pops up a moment later: _Bring Jeno-yah!_

Doyoung sighs and gets up. “Jeno,” he calls. His intern magically appears at his side.

“Is it time?” Jeno asks.

“It’s time.”

They take the stairs down to marketing, Jeno bouncing ahead like an overeager puppy. He bursts out the door at the bottom and practically tackles Jaemin to the ground from where he’s standing next to the elevators. Doyoung steps around them neatly and heads into the bullpen.

It’s easy to figure out where Taeyong is from the sizable crowd that’s gathered. Doyoung tries to make himself look casual, like he’s on the floor for a reason but is curious as to what everyone’s looking at. He peers over the heads of the onlookers and nearly chokes on his tongue.

Taeyong looks -- unfairly good. His hair is a light bubblegum pink, contrasting nicely with the dark navy suit he’s wearing. There’s a blush painting his cheeks as his coworkers fawn over him. 

“Taeyongie, it looks so nice,” Seulgi from creative gushes. “What made you decide to change it?”

Taeyong shrugs easily. “Blonde was getting boring,” he says idly. “It’ll probably help me land a few more modelling gigs, too.”

The crowd coos over him and Doyoung just barely holds himself back from rolling his eyes. He’s just about to turn away when Taeyong catches his eye. He raises one, perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Doyoung before turning his attention to Yuta, who’s yammering away about something unimportant next to him.

Feeling vaguely defeated, Doyoung slinks away. He knows if he dyed his hair pink he’d have the entire office laughing at him. It seems unfair that Taeyong can look this good with the most stupid of hair colours.

“Cheer up, hyung,” Jeno says as they wander back up to HR. “At least he doesn’t know it was you.”

Being one of the senior members of the HR team, Doyoung is inherently aware of what an employee can and cannot be fired for. Revealing to Taeyong that he was the one who put the hair dye in his shampoo is not a fireable offense, but Doyoung sure as hell wishes it was.

“I know it wasn’t you, because you wouldn’t betray me like that,” Doyoung says, standing over Jeno’s desk with a brown paper lunch bag filled with nothing but Jolly Ranchers. His lunch should’ve had a salad and some leftover grilled pork belly from the night before. Where it is, he has no idea. “But you must know who told, because if I recall correctly, it was only you and Jaemin in that goddamn room with me.”

Jeno cowers, then tentatively reaches out for the lunch bag. Doyoung lets it go willingly because he’s certainly not going to eat all the candies in it, but still frowns when Jeno pulls a piece from the bag and unravels it. “Jeno,” he says. “Focus.”

“Jaemin didn’t mean to,” is what Jeno says around his mouthful of Jolly Rancher. “He sort of let slip that it was his dye to begin with, and because he’s just an intern he didn’t want to get in trouble and jeopardize his position in the company, so. He just. Told the truth.”

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose. This is the last thing he needs today. He’s got a new insurance case to deal with because Mark went and got his nose broken after tripping over some props that the marketing team had left around, so now Doyoung’s got to deal with medical _and_ Mark’s eye glasses coverage. 

And now he apparently needs to go out and buy himself a lunch.

“Jaemin will be fine,” he says, which seems to ease a lot of the tension out of Jeno’s shoulders. “But I need to figure out what to do about this bag of candy.”

“Well, I’ll take them,” Jeno says. “And I’ll go out and buy you a lunch, boss.”

“I don’t mean what am I going to do about this actual bag of candy, Jeno, though you can most certainly have it. I mean, what am I going to do about the situation?”

Jeno looks at him quizzically. Doyoung sighs. “I’m not about to take this shit lying down. I have some modicum of pride and I will not lose out on something as stupid as a -- as a prank war to someone with bubblegum pink hair.”

The grin on Jeno’s face widens to the point where his eyes disappear into little crescent moons. Doyoung’s hardly ever sees him smile like that unless he’s looking at Jaemin.

“Oh, hyung,” he says. Doyoung doesn’t bother scolding him for improper workplace honourifics. “We’ll help you.”

Doyoung spends the next month at work showing up to the office even earlier than usual and feeling extremely paranoid about everything that he does.

He sees Taeyong once, right at the beginning, before they really start to get into the -- the war. It’s on a day when Doyoung is helping Jeno transfer a bunch of his stuff from his temporary place of residence to Jaemin’s apartment, apparently his new _permanent_ place of residence. It makes Doyoung’s eye twitch.

Taeyong is in the elevator already, which is weird since marketing is two floors below them, but Doyoung refrains from commenting. Jeno greets him cheerfully and lugs the one cardboard box of valuables he’d removed from Doyoung’s car into the elevator.

The ride is tense.

When they reach the parkade floor, Doyoung is about to step out of the elevator after Jeno when Taeyong grabs his elbow. Doyoung pointedly ignores the sparks that ignite on his skin under the two layers of sleeves he’s wearing.

“I know it was you,” Taeyong says, eyes steely but mischievous. Doyoung feels the corners of his mouth turn down.

“What was me?” he asks, faux innocence and wide eyes.

“The hair dye.”

“Duh,” Doyoung replies, caught. He adds, “You swapped my lunch for a bag of Jolly Ranchers. Jeno has been on a sugar high for the last two days. And I was really looking forward to eating that lunch.”

Taeyong’s grin widens. “It was delicious.”

Doyoung blows out a long, slow breath. He doesn’t want to get angry. He doesn’t want Taeyong to see how much this is affecting him. Doyoung refuses to lose an office prank war to the most beautiful person in the room; he doesn’t need to feel _more_ inadequate. 

“You better watch your back,” Doyoung says, stepping out of the elevator when Jeno calls, “Hyung. Can you open the trunk?” 

“Sleep with one eye open at night?”

“Something of the like,” Doyoung replies. Taeyong follows him out, but grabs his elbow again. When Doyoung turns to face him, he extends his hand.

“May the best and most beautiful win,” Taeyong says.

Doyoung scowls but shakes the hand. “Fuck you,” he replies, and saunters off to his car to help Jeno.

Three days later, Doyoung and Jeno sneak down to marketing at eight in the morning and loosen all the screws on the wheels of Taeyong’s chair. Jaemin cheerfully informs them that they’d all fallen off the second Taeyong had sat down and the entire chair had tipped him onto the floor. 

A week after that, every available inch on Doyoung’s desk is covered in little plastic Troll dolls.

“Where did he even find all of these?” Jeno marvels, staring at the little tufts of pink hair.

“Does it matter?” Doyoung asks. “Help me clean it up before Donghyuck sees them.”

Doyoung -- with Jeno _and_ Jaemin’s help -- gift wraps Taeyong’s entire desk. It takes them 10 rolls of wrapping paper and two hours. Doyoung has never showed up to work so early before.

“Please send us photos after,” Doyoung tells Jaemin as he leads them down to the cafe on the bottom floor. His treat. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Jaemin replies. “Also, I’ll have an Americano with six shots of espresso, please.”

Doyoung looks at him. “Absolutely not,” he says. “I will not be dealing with the insurance company after you go to the hospital for heart failure.”

They agree on two shots, which still seems like two shots too many for Doyoung.

Jaemin sends them a picture later in the day of Taeyong sitting on his gift-wrapped chair. He’s managed to free his keyboard and the monitor screen, but has left everything else mostly intact. 

Doyoung thinks he might’ve won, after that. The days pass by without retaliation from Taeyong. Even Jeno is starting to get a little suspicious.

“It makes me nervous, boss,” he says. They’re on their way down to marketing to work on a new campaign. Or, Jeno is on his way down. Doyoung doesn’t want to be left alone with the possibility of a prank occurring at any moment. The paranoia is really getting to him.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Doyoung replies. They step out of the stairwell to find Jaemin waiting for them. He’s long since given up waiting at the elevator. 

Jaemin and Jeno bounce ahead, babbling about a range of topics between the actual work they’re supposed to be doing and what Jaemin is apparently going to cook them for dinner. Doyoung trails behind, staring blankly at some of the vague artwork on the walls when someone steps in front of him.

“Excuse me,” he says, irritated. When the soft pink hair and sharp, cat-like eyes register, Doyoung frowns harder. “ _Excuse me,_ ” he repeats.

Taeyong grins at him and leans against the wall. “How are you?” he asks. 

Doyoung feels himself tense all over. “Fine,” he says, then, because he’s _polite_ , he adds, “and you?”

“Peachy,” Taeyong replies. He’s got this dumb, Cheshire Cat grin on his face, which makes Doyoung practically vibrate with nerves. “You haven’t pranked me in a while.”

“Yes, well,” Doyoung stutters. “Some of us have actual work to do, you know.”

“Sure.” Taeyong studies him for a long moment, then says, “You know, you could be in the running for most beautiful employee, too.”

Doyoung’s glad he’s not holding anything because he probably would have dropped it at this point. “Uh,” he says.

“You have a nice side profile,” Taeyong continues, moving away from the wall so he can circle Doyoung. “Yeah. Your right side is pretty good. The photogenic side.”

Doyoung snaps out of whatever weird stupor he was in and says, “And what’s my left side? Chopped liver?”

Taeyong laughs. It’s annoyingly pleasant sounding. Doyoung wants to shut him up. Preferably with his mouth. “Not quite that bad,” he replies. “It’s adequate.”

Doyoung scowls and turns on his heel back to the elevators. He hadn’t really come down here for any reason, after all. “Whatever you’ve done, I’ll figure it out,” he says, pushing the call button.

“Sure,” Taeyong says easily. “I’ll be waiting.”

It annoys Doyoung how affable and cheery Taeyong is, like he -- enjoys this push and pull between them. Doyoung feels like he has to sleep with one eye open at night, even though all their pranks are strictly kept to the office. He’s got to figure out how to put an end to this, though he needs to figure out what Taeyong’s done to him first. 

Doyoung sits down at his desk, chair swivelling as he racks his brain trying to figure it out. His eye catches on the Polaroids he’s taped to the cubicle walls, pictures taken of him and his brother and him and the HR department. Even one of him and Jeno.

Except they’re all different. 

Doyoung shuffles closer and stares at the photos. Every single one has been replaced by a cheeky picture of Taeyong, pink hair and bright smile and little finger hearts. It takes everything in Doyoung to not scream out loud in the middle of the office. He rips them all off the cubicle walls and dumps them in a drawer in his desk, very aware that he’s not shoving them straight into the garbage can where they should _probably_ go.

_This has to end,_ he thinks. He has no idea what he’s going to do, but he needs this stupid prank war to be done and over with, if only so he doesn’t drive himself insane thinking about Taeyong every waking minute of the day. It hasn’t been good for his head, and truthfully, it hasn’t been good for his wrist either. With a resigned sigh, Doyoung opens his emails and gets to work trying to sound calm and collected while he contacts the insurance company about Mark’s claim.

It takes two weeks, a lot of Googling, and a promise to buy Jaemin his monstrous Americano-espresso order every day for a week before Doyoung can get his prank-war-ending-prank in motion. 

“I did not really know you could do this to a coffee maker,” Jeno says, staring at the single-serve machine that occupies the marketing department’s break room. 

“The internet was very helpful in this regard,” Doyoung says, hands on his hips. What they’d managed to do was disable the water heater in the machine, amp up the pressure, and attach a tiny nozzle to the pre-existing hose so that it will shoot whoever is unlucky enough to use the machine with water. Now all Doyoung needs is for the victim to be Taeyong.

“And me.”

“Yes, and you, Jaemin. Thank you for doing all the actual work. Now, you remember the plan, correct?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to get Taeyong-hyung to come to the break room and get him to have a cup of coffee,” Jeno says.

Jaemin pouts. “I still don’t get why _I_ can’t do this job. I actually work in in this department.”

“You have a face for mischief,” Doyoung replies immediately. “Taeyong will take one look at you and never believe you.”

This, at least, makes Jaemin grin.

“Jaemin, it’s your job to make sure no one else comes into the room and uses the machine before Taeyong.”

“Got it, boss,” Jaemin says. Doyoung doesn’t know when Jaemin started doing that, but it makes him rub the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t need another intern to mentor.

“Okay, and I will hide near the cubbies because I don’t want to get murdered.”

“Perfect,” his wonder twins reply. Doyoung rolls his eyes and marches them out of the room.

It’s all downhill from there.

First of all. Taeyong is standing outside the break room, which would have been fine if Doyoung hadn’t also been right there.

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong asks cheerfully. Doyoung is immediately suspicious and also very taken by how nice Taeyong looks when he smiles. He hates his stupid brain. 

“Dropping off my child at daycare,” he replies, gesturing to Jeno. Jeno scowls. 

“Charming,” Taeyong says. “And you decided to stop by our break room, too?”

Doyoung shrugs. “Wanted to see what kind of snacks you had,” he says. “That’s not a crime, now, is it?”

“No, but it’s interesting that you were looking for snacks here when I know that there’s a muffin basket in your own break from Yeri.”

Doyoung opens and closes his mouth. “How do you know that?” he asks. He’s distinctly aware of Jeno and Jaemin standing beside him watching this exchange like spectators at a sporting event.

“Because I went up there looking for you,” Taeyong replies.

Doyoung opens and closes his mouth several times, like a goldfish. “Why?” he settles on.

“I was thinking,” Taeyong says, “that maybe we should stop the silly pranks. I mean, I thought you gave up since you’ve been pretty quiet the last couple weeks, but it’s tiring, too, you know? There are better and easier ways to get my attention.”

“What?” Doyoung splutters. “I’m not -- I’m not trying to get your attention!”

“Oh?” Taeyong tilts his head to the side. Doyoung immediately hates how it makes him look like a cute puppy or something. “But Jaemin told me you kept talking about how I keep winning Most Beautiful Employee every month.”

If looks could kill, Doyoung is certain Jaemin would be a pile of ash on the floor. As it is, Jaemin has gone a ghostly shade of white.

“I kept talking about it because I think it’s unfair that you keep winning every month,” Doyoung says, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “There are plenty of other people in this company who are beautiful.”

“So you don’t think I’m beautiful?”

“I didn’t say that!” Doyoung exclaims. “You’re stupidly beautiful.”

Taeyong grins, like he’s holding back from saying, _gotcha!_ Doyoung wants to bang his head against the wall.

“Great, I’m glad you think so,” Taeyong says. “It turns out I think you’re beautiful, too, so we should probably go on a date after work today.”

“I -- we should -- what?” 

“Go on a date,” Taeyong says. “Dinner. We should go out so I can actually get to know you and so you can learn that I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“Oh my god,” Doyoung mutters. How did this become his life? 

“He’ll go with you,” Jeno says helpfully. “He needs to get out more anyway.”

“Perfect. I’ll come by the HR department at five to pick you up?”

Doyoung has no idea what’s happening. He’s not -- he’s not _opposed_ to going on a date with Taeyong. Granted, all of his fantasies about his coworker have been a little more -- r-rated than dinner, but. Doyoung is not bad at dating. He’s sure he can wine and dine Taeyong.

Someone mumbles a quick, “excuse me,” sliding past Doyoung into the break room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it’s Johnny, head of the sales department. Weird. He’s about to open his mouth to -- begrudgingly -- agree to Taeyong’s proposal when a loud shout echoes from the break room. 

“What the fuck is wrong with the coffe maker?!”

“Oh shit,” Doyoung says. Jeno and Jaemin are already scampering down the hallway. “You know, maybe we should do breakfast instead. Like. Right now.”

Taeyong grins and nudges Doyoung down the hallway. “Sure,” he says. “I’m flexible. You sure do keep me on my toes, Kim Doyoung.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully all of our other dates will be less eventful than this,” Doyoung says. Jeno’s holding the elevator for them and they dash inside.

“Oh, so there will be more dates?” Taeyong asks coyly. 

Doyoung stares at the ugly ceiling tiles. He’s not sure how he went from lusting after Taeyong, to battling him, to going on dates with him, but apparently that’s just the way Doyoung’s life works: a series of unfortunate events with a happy ending after all.

“Sure,” Doyoung says. “The more the merrier.”

Taeyong bounces on his toes and presses a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek. “I’m looking forward to them,” he says. 

Doyoung almost hates to admit it, but he says, “Me too,” and completely means it.

“Jaemin, you were supposed to be watching to make sure no one else went in the break room!”

“Sorry, boss. You and Taeyong-hyung were just so much more entertaining!”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/monstplaza) or my [cc](http://curiouscat.me/monstplaza).


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